Here Without You
by TheGirlThatChasedTheRabbit
Summary: Arthur and Alfred both suffer from the lengths at which they have gone to forget and leave each other behind. Rated M for language and alcohol abuse. Finished as of now, but if you like it, that could change! Just let me know!


**A/N: This is my first try at a Hetalia FanFic, so I hope it's up to par. There might be a bit of OOC moments, sorry! Also, I don't know if I should continue or not, so review and let me know if you think I should! Human and country names used! It's pretty short, too.**

Arthur stared at the old photo album. The smiling faces of himself and the object of his affections brought up a sadness within him. Tears welled in his eyes as the pain began to squeeze his heart and make it hard to breathe. He must really be a masochist to be looking at the thing, he thought angrily. He chucked the book away from him violently, the feeling of it burning against his skin. He hurriedly reached next to him on his bed and grabbed his bottle of whiskey, now only half full. He drank it, downing the lot of it in one go. It was his third bottle. By mortal standards he should be dead from drinking so much alcohol in one night, but he wasn't so lucky. And he definitely wasn't mortal, being the personification of England.  
He swore he didn't care. Alfred had left over two and a half centuries ago. He was America now, without him and doing well. Alfred didn't need him, hell, he didn't even want Arthur. A sob broke through him, shaking him to his very core. His body quivered from the force of the broken and pain-felt sobs.  
Arthur was broken. And to try and numb the empty feeling he had, he drank in the dark away from the other nations. No one knew. They would never think that the carefully collected British Empire was so weak. Finally, sleep answered him and welcomed him in to her dark and numb embrace where he could leave the pain, even if only for a fleeting few hours. If he was lucky, that is. Some times, even sleep could be a bitch and remind him of his lost love.  
The only sound heard after that was a tired and longing whisper, broken in tone. "Alfred..."

Alfred was feeling off. That itself was not unusual, he had felt off for a very long time, but he could usually drown the feeling in food. But not today. He regurgitated his stomach's contents with a frown. What is this? he thought, going to his living room to sit on his couch in silence. Just staring out at nothing left his mind to wander, going back to unpleasant memories...  
Alfred had fought against England not to separate per say, but to gain acknowledgment of a different kind. He didn't want to be Arthur's kid brother. He wanted to be seen as an independent nation, as a man. Alfred had not meant for England to hate him for it, but that was the way fate worked. No, he wanted England. Wanted him so bad it hurt and was very hard to hide the fact during World Meetings.  
Alfred decided he needed to just hear Arthur's voice once and he'd be okay. Picking up his phone, he dialed the number he knew by heart.  
"Hello?" asked an unusually hoarse voice. Worry shot through Alfred, but he could not speak. Something was tearing inside of him. Ripping violently inside of him, trying to break through.  
"Hello? Is someone there?" the voice tried again, cracking towards the end of his sentence.  
England sounded broken. Panic shot through Alfred. Was it because of him? No, surely not. A little voice in his head told him. Arthur was probably upset with France, his suspected lover. Rage flooded through Alfred and scenes of a bloody France washed through his mind. France was nothing compared to him. Alfred could crush him easily, make him beg for the mercy he, Alfred, would never give. Alfred shook his head of the thoughts of starting a WWII with France...for now.  
The ripping feeling inside of him, he realized, had been his resolve of keeping a distance from Arthur. He couldn't do that after hearing his voice like that.  
Alfred had to see him right then. So, he took off into the night. He'd go to Arthur and lay his heart out for him. He's take the chance of it being returned bloody and torn. Because he couldn't live any longer like this. He had to have Arthur or else... Or else something bad was going to happen. But what, Alfred himself did not know. He only knew that he could only hope no one would have to find out. Especially him.


End file.
